


Dark Christmas

by pat_t



Series: Darkness [4]
Category: Angel: the Series, Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 09:49:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pat_t/pseuds/pat_t
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danger at Christmas time. Have Duncan and Angel both turned evil?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Adult content containings male/male slash,language, violence, DM/M, this is a companion piece to Blood Bath and Touche and Curcurbita Pepo
> 
> The songs in the story: "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" by Henry Gillespie; "Jingle Bells" by James S. Pierpont; "Here Comes Santa Claus" by Gene Autry and Oakley Haldeman; "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" by Johnny Marks; "Hark the Herald, Angels Sing" by Charles Wesley.

Methos entered the loft, threw his coat across the back of the couch, and stilled as a field of energy slithered over his body. He felt his skin prickle as all the fine hairs stood straight up from his flesh. He slowly turned, his eyes now adjusted to the dim lighting, and surveyed his surroundings. The room was dark, save for the brightly colored blinking lights on their seven foot Christmas pine set in the corner of the living room area. The air was still, eerily quiet, broken only by the cheery carols emitting from the stereo beside the bed.

He had felt Duncan's presence from the lift before entering their home. He assumed his lover was in the bathroom and called out his name.

"Duncan." He paused, listened, and frowned when the only response was the too cheery voice from the CD player.

He eased towards his coat until he reached his Ivanhoe and pulled it slowly from its sheath. Slowly, he walked towards the light switch and reached for it, pausing when he heard a shuffling of feet and swish of fabric behind him. He turned quickly on the balls of his feet, and raised his sword in warning.

"Leave the lights off, Methos," a smooth male voice crooned.

He narrowed his eyes and studied the man in front of him--the tall stature, wide shoulders, intense brown eyes and playful smirk highlighted from the shadows by the dancing colored lights of the Christmas tree.

"Angel?" he asked, dropping the tip of his blade towards the floor as the other man advanced. Methos saw the shift in the other man's posture, the tilt of his head, and an undercurrent of danger in his expression a split second before his face changed. A growl accompanied the transition and Methos reacted, jumping back and swinging his blade in front of his body to ward the other man away.

Angel stood in front of him, his face morphed into the face of a demon, and laughed as Methos backed away and called out for his lover.

"MacLeod," Methos yelled out into the room, and felt his stomach grip in fear at the thought of what this creature may have done to his lover.

"MacLeod," Angel called out mockingly and laughed.

Methos looked into his friend's yellow eyes, and tried to see past the beastly snarl that made up his face. "Where is he, Angel? What have you done?"

"Done? I haven't done anything yet, Methos." His name was said with a silky caress, and Methos shivered despite himself. He looked out and surveyed the loft. Everything was just as they had left it that morning, save the cheery holiday music and brightly colored lights that were now grating on his nerves.

"And, it's not Angel. Or haven't you figured that out yet? It's Angelus," he taunted, while spreading out his arms wide in a blatant 'come get me if you can' motion.

"Back up, Angelus," Methos instructed him coldly while thrusing the tip of his sword against Angelus' chest to punctuate his words. He pressed forward until he had backed the other man into the center of the room.

"Duncan," he called again, and breathed a sigh of relief when the bathroom door opened and his lover walked out.

"You called, Methos?" Duncan asked him as he stepped around them, seemingly unperturbed by the sight of his lover standing in the middle of their living room while holding a sword on a vampire and former lover.

Methos felt a wave of danger grate across his nerves, and gripped the hilt of his blade tighter while muscles tensed in readiness. "Stay behind me, Duncan. And get your katana. I don't know what's happened, but Angel has turned. He's Angelus again and he's deadly."

Angel laughed, and leaned forward, seemingly unmindful of the blade which was pressing into his chest, and growled.

Duncan had moved behind him, so close Methos could feel the heat of his breath when he leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Why would I want to do that, Methos?" came the sardonic reply.

Methos barely had time to register the dark pitch of Duncan's voice when he felt the sharp sting of a blade as it entered his back, sliced through his torso and exited his chest. He looked down at his own chest, shocked and dismayed by the sight of the protruding sword, his life blood flowing freely down his belly and soaking his clothes even as it also pounded in his head, making him light headed with disbelief. The blade was slowly withdrawn and he gasped in pain.

"Duncan." He said his lover's name, and turned as his Ivanhoe slipped from his nerveless fingers onto the floor with a loud clank. He reached out, grasping at Duncan MacLeod's arms and felt himself slip away as unconsciousness enveloped him.

~~~~~~

Methos woke with a sharp intake of breath that sent jolts of pain from his oxygen starved lungs to every cell of his body. He coughed as his lungs expanded, and fought for control as his heart began beating, pushing stagnant blood through his body. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils and began a thorough sensory evaluation of his surroundings. He felt a chill against his skin and shivered. He was naked, a fact that had become obvious to him the instant he woke. That and the fact that he had leather restraints on both his wrists. Wrists that were extended upwards over his head and secured to a heavy metal ring suspended from the ceiling. When had Mac installed that? His legs were spread and secured to a bar, leaving his genitalia open and vulnerable.

He smelt pine in the air, a soft woodsy odor that had penetrated the loft ever since he and Duncan had brought in the large tree for Christmas. With an inward smile he remembered: how they had driven to the outskirts of Seacouver to find the perfect tree; the snowball fight that had left them rolling in the snow, laughing hysterically; coming home, wet, cold and happy as they struggled to get the tree into the lift and up to the loft; stringing the lights, placing each ornament just so, as they shared the precious memories and stories each piece invoked.

He grabbed hold of the memory, savoring it. He had a feeling he was going to need it as an anchor to get through the night.

In the background, he heard a chirpy Christmas jingle coming from their stereo system.

> >   
>  _You better watch out,  
>  you better not cry  
>  you better not pout  
>  I'm telling you why  
>  Santa Claus is coming to town_   
> 

> >   
>  _He's making a list,  
>  he's checking it twice  
>  he's gonna find out  
>  who's naughty or nice_   
> 

He moaned to himself. He had always hated the mindless prattle of twentieth century holidays. _Wasn't this bloody torture enough?_

He felt the hum of immortal presence across his nerve endings as well as a lower grating thrum that made him reel with their combined energy. Slowly, his memories sought order, clicked into place and he moaned inwardly. Duncan and Angel. Duncan had stabbed him. Why? And Angel--Angelus? He had turned, changed. Duncan had been different too. Where had he heard that tone of voice before, the darkness and danger underlying Duncan's actions and words? With sickening clarity he remembered. The dark quickening.

> >   
>  _  
>  **What you see is what you get.  
>  See me as I am. Not as I was.  
>  I will kill you.**   
>  _   
> 

He forced his eyes open and shuddered in spite of himself. The lights were still off, leaving the room in semi darkness as the Christmas tree lights continued to blink on and off. Large Christmas candles were lit in varying places around the room, filling the air with smells of spice and holly. And, he was _not_ alone.

"Well, look who decided to join us, MacLeod." A very naked and aroused Angelus stepped up and stroked Methos' cheek, his breath a gentle whisper against Methos' skin as he leaned in and gently kissed his lips. Angelus pulled back, his hand never losing contact with Methos' skin, and growled as his features morphed into the grotesque masque of a vampire. "Play time." He smirked, his fangs prominent and glistening as he leaned forward once again and licked Methos' jaw.

"It's about time. We were almost afraid you were going to miss all the fun." Mac joined Angelus and pressed close.

Methos looked into his lover's eyes and felt his heart sink when he saw the coldness reflected there. This man was not his lover. He had seen this man once before, thought him long gone, vanquished from Mac's psyche. When had Mac taken another dark quickening? And, what had happened to Angel?

"Duncan, don't do this," he whispered, trying to get through to the man he hoped was still inside. He felt a stab of fear coil in his gut as he realized just how helpless he was to the two men's evil. _I will kill you._ Fuck! After five thousand years, would he lose his head tonight to two men he had trusted? And loved.

Duncan laughed, a low, evil sound, before he took Methos' chin in his wide hand and brought his face toward him until they were sharing a breath when he spoke. "Dunkie's gone, Methos. I'm here now, and I intend to keep it that way. Don't worry. I don't want your head. At least not that head." Duncan pressed his body weight forward, his leather encased thigh slipping between Methos' legs to taunt his lax sex.

Methos groaned as Duncan's hard sex pressed against his belly, leaving a film of wetness on his skin. Duncan stepped back and observed him coolly, while Angelus, who had converted back to his human form, scowled. Duncan was grinning, that predatory, calculating smirk that should have turned Methos' veins to ice instead of the heat that strummed in its place. Duncan was wearing leather chaps and boots, his sex exposed and pulsing between his legs as his heavy balls swung freely. He was sporting a thick gold piercing through the slit of his cock that connected underneath, and Methos wondered once again when the hell his partner had changed.

Angelus was equally aroused, his own hardness dancing in the air as he stood silently and watched the byplay. Methos' pulse quickened as the two men observed him, adrenaline kicking in as his body geared up for flight or fight, and his nerve endings crackled in anticipation. His cock begin to swell with blood as testosterone flooded his system, sending heat and lust into his groin. He pulled on his chains, testing their strength, as he already started anticipating his escape.

Methos saw the feral grin cross Duncan's face a split second before his fist slammed into Methos' jaw. Methos jerked backwards from the force, held upright only by the chains that secured him in place. He tasted blood on his tongue, and glared coldly at his captors. Unfortunately, the pain impulses were sending different signals to his brain and he felt his cock throb in response.

Methos continued to watch them, waiting, while knowing looks crossed their faces when they saw his own sex lengthen and rise to point towards the ceiling.

"I told you our slut would want to play, Angelus." Duncan turned towards the vampire and smirked.

"Fuck you." Methos spat bloody sputum onto the floor and glared at his captors.

"Oh, yeah," Angelus stepped up close and crooned. "He wants to play. Our little slut loves pain, don't you, Methos?" Angelus smirked too, and Methos closed his eyes in resignation until he heard an answering chuckle from his ex-lover.

Methos opened his eyes and looked into the faces of the two men taunting him, his skin prickling with the danger as it crackled in the air around him. He focused on their predatory gazes, their sleek muscles that rippled with every smooth movement as they pressed close, and their throbbing cocks that pulsed with both a threat and a promise. He felt their dark power, alive, pulsing in time with every beat of his heart.

He and Duncan had played before with bondage and discipline. But this was not playing. There was no plan, no consent. This was not safe, and he realized that he was alive and aching with the need of it, the exquisite pleasure from the danger. Owning him.

Duncan reached up and released one of Methos' arms from the chains. He gripped Methos' forearm hard, bruising where his hand dug into the flesh, while Angelus removed the restraint and tossed it to the floor.

Methos watched them warily, and felt his skin prickle in warning when Angelus handed Duncan a dagger, which he held up to Methos' face with a wicked smile. Methos tensed with trepidation as he watched Duncan hold the knife up to his mouth and stick out his tongue to run it up the blade slowly, laughing when he reached the tip.

Methos felt a thrill run through his body and he shivered in both anticipation and fear. "Mac…Duncan." He saw the movement split seconds before the vicious backhand jerked him in his chains, causing red hot pain to shoot through his bound extremities. Methos worked his jaw gently, and was sure it was broken. Resigned, he stilled, breathed in deeply and thanked God for immortal healing as the fine bones in his face started to mend.

In his peripheral vision, Methos could still see the blinking lights on the tree, hear the carols strumming from the stereo speakers and internally mocked the absurdity of it.

> >   
>  _Dashing through the snow,  
>  in a one-horse open sleigh,  
>  Over the hills we go, laughing all the way.  
>  Bells on bob-tails ring,  
>  making spirits bright,  
>  what fun it is to ride and sing a sleighing song tonight.  
>  Jingle bells  
>  jingle bells,  
>  jingle all the way,  
>  oh what fun it is to ride  
>  in a one-horse open sleigh._   
> 

Methos moaned when the sharp tip of the blade was trailed down his chest to his groin. He shivered when the deadly tip was brushed across his nipples with enough pressure to sting, but not to cut. He heard Angelus groan when Duncan bent down and took a hardened nub between his teeth and bit down--hard. Methos felt his cock quiver with expectation when Angelus bent down and took the twin nub between his own teeth and licked, just barely grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth.

Methos watched them as they straightened and shared a knowing look, grinning openly at his reaction. Angelus was still holding onto Methos arm and he turned it now to expose the sensitive pulse point of his wrist. Methos watched expectantly as Duncan drew the blade across the inside of his wrist, slicing through the tender flesh until blood oozed from the wound and dripped down his hand onto the floor.

He sucked in a deep breath, and held it, as his nerve endings throbbed from the pain, sending a surge of arousal straight to his cock. He watched, mesmerized, as Angelus' face changed once again to his vampire form, and he brought the bloody wrist up to his mouth.

Angelus covered Methos' wrist with his mouth and sucked gently. Methos watched the sensuous mouth move against his skin, felt the velvety tongue flick out across the wound and firm, but gentle pressure sucked out his blood while the threatening prick of his fangs tantalized Methos' skin.

The blue sparks of healing were already mending the deep cut, and he felt its tingling charge glide across his skin under the suction of the other man's mouth. Angelus lifted his head, and licked the blood from his lips once the wound had completely closed and healed. "Umm, ancient immortal blood. You've been greedy, Methos. It's time to share."

Methos started to retort, but swallowed the words when Duncan lifted Methos' bloody hand to his mouth. Methos looked into the brown eyes of his lover, familiar, yet not, as the man looking back at him with such harsh intensity smiled knowingly and stuck out his tongue. Methos felt his knees buckle as Duncan drew his tongue across the palm of his hand, licking up the residual blood, moaning with the taste of it, as he appeared to savor every drop.

Duncan took Methos' middle finger into his mouth and began to suck, first gently, then harder. Duncan's tongue flicked across his finger pad, a graze of teeth nibbled, and then sweet suction that pulled in the remaining blood from the digit.

Methos looked out into the loft, and laughed deep in his throat as the smiling angel at the top of the tree blinked with brightly colored lights. The music drifted to his ears as the suction increased on his finger, and he moaned again, a guttural sound that spoke of unleashed need.

> >   
>  _Here comes Santa Claus!  
>  Here comes Santa Claus!  
>  Right down Santa Claus Lane.  
>  Vixen and Blitzen and all his reindeer  
>  are pulling on the reins._   
> 

> >   
>  _Bells are ringing,  
>  Children singing  
>  All is merry and bright._   
> 

Methos' orgasm was quickly approaching, and he closed his eyes as his balls tightened and drew up towards the base of his cock. He tensed, ready, needing, then sagged with a groan when his hand was released and both men stepped back to laugh.

Angelus' face returned to human form as he stepped closer to grip Methos' chin in the palm of his hand. Duncan slithered around him and pressed close, allowing his straining erection to slide across Methos' buttocks.

"You're so beautiful when you beg. Beg for us, Methos," Duncan purred before lowering his head to bite Methos' shoulder hard enough to draw blood. He lapped at the tiny marks, then laughed again when Angelus took Methos' mouth in a bruising kiss that left Methos' lips tingling in its wake.

"Please," Methos' voice whispered against their laughter.

"Please? Please? Pathetic, Methos." Angelus taunted.

Methos' blood pulsed with anger. Every nerve cell was humming with need even as the adrenaline induced power was threatening to break free. His body was screaming for action and he fought against his bonds, both fearing and wanting the two men who held him captive.

There was movement behind him, and he tensed as his arm was jerked upwards and secured once again. A blind fold was placed over his eyes and he felt the dual sensations of fear and excitement war within himself.

"Mac...Duncan." He tried to reach the man behind him.

Two large, strong hands reached around and pressed against his throat, while a hot breath hissed against the back of his neck. "I told you, Dunkie's not here. I'm here now. The new and improved me. What you see is what you get," he continued in a sing song voice.

Methos cringed and waited in darkness as he felt a brush of cold air behind him as Mac stepped away. He listened, trying to ascertain what they were doing, but the only sounds in the still quiet were coming from the stereo in the corner.

> >   
>  _Rudolph, the red nosed reindeer,  
>  had a very shiny nose.  
>  And if you ever saw him,  
>  you would even say it glows.  
>  All of the other reindeers  
>  used to laugh and call him names  
>  they never let poor Rudolph  
>  join in any reindeer games._   
> 

Heat surrounded him as one man stood behind him again and the other pressed up against him chest to chest. He recognized the feel of the silky fur across the muscled chest and moaned. _Duncan._

Duncan slid down his body until the whispered heat of the other man's breath was against his cock. He began to shake from the overwhelming tension when the dual sensation of a hot mouth on his cock was joined by the stinging coldness of an ice cube inserted in his ass. The ice began melting while the hot moist suction on his cock drew him closer to orgasm. He longed to move his legs, wrap his thighs around the man giving him such exquisite pleasure, and groaned, arching his hips toward the moist heat instead when he could not.

The tension in his cock was building, the numbing coldness in his ass adding a sweet counterpoint to his pleasure, until he could stand it no more, and his whole body tensed, ready for his release.

Suddenly, the heat was gone, leaving his aching cock bobbing in the air, saliva slicked and ready to explode in climax. "Fuck!" Methos cried out in frustration as the two men stepped away laughing.

He was shaking, just barely hanging onto a thread of control, when he heard a heavy object being scraped across the wooden floor, and he tensed in expectation. The blindfold was pulled from his eyes, and he blinked, trying to focus through his lust induced haze. Duncan had pulled a gym horse in front of him, one that he recognized from the dojo, covered in well worn brown leather. Angelus released Methos' restrained wrists from the chains to lower them in front of his body.

Duncan walked behind Methos and pushed him over the gym horse roughly, while Angelus grabbed his wrist restraints and secured them to a metal ring at the base with a chain. Methos was draped over the equipment, his ass tilted into the air, his legs still spread open and secured to the spreader bar. His cock was rubbing against the hard leather and he oscillated between cursing the hard abrasive surface against his tender flesh, and wanting to grind himself against it anyway.

Methos heard a nasty chuckle and he shivered when it was followed by the snapping of a leather strap.

Duncan walked around the horse until he was standing in front of the restrained man. He jerked Methos head up by his hair and squatted down to breathe into his face. "You've been bad, Methos. Dunkie put up with your crap, but I'm not going to. You have me to answer to now."

The threat was clear and imminent in Duncan's promise, and Methos' belly clenched in trepidation as his hair was released, and Duncan took the leather strap from Angelus' hands and positioned himself behind him.

Methos heard the whistling of the strap before it made contact with his butt, and he tensed, ready, before the leather tore into his flesh. The leather strap sliced into both buttocks with a speed and force he hadn't expected, and he cried out involuntarily. Once again he was reminded that the man whipping his ass was not his lover, but a dark incarnation in his place.

The strap landed on both buttocks again and again, leaving his ass throbbing with burning pain. Methos lost count after the tenth lash, and let go of the tension from his body as endorphins were released from his brain into his bloodstream. He felt himself being drawn into the exquisite sensations as lash after lash tore into his tender skin until he had completely abandoned the fear to his own need and his two lovers' desires.

His arousal spiraled and he ground his cock against the leather, his own dampness easing the friction, until a pair of hands gripped his hips hard, demanding that he stop. He stilled, and felt the blood rushing in his head, as the two men moved around him.

One of the men chuckled near his ear, and he looked up, startled when he saw Angelus slip on a heavy glove and take a metal rod from a small grill which had been set up in the kitchen. Through the whirling in his brain, he tried to comprehend, to form thoughts, and realized that he could not, nor did he care.

He sensed, rather than saw, Angelus move around him to stand by Duncan's side. He waited, his ass on fire, while his mind turned the pain into pleasure. His body was no longer reacting to the fear and pain as his mind drifted into subspace.

He felt the pain first, then the rancid smell of burning flesh, as the red hot brand was applied to his left buttock. He screamed out, then stopped as the pain once again melted into pleasure and his cock throbbed against his belly. He felt lightheaded, his entire being attuned to every touch and sensation.

Angelus released his wrists from the chain securing him to the metal ring, and strong arms lifted his torso from the gym horse. The pain in his buttock was subsiding as a healing current danced across his left butt cheek. A lubed finger entered his ass and he bucked against it, his body automatically reacting to the stimulus.

Methos was aware of strong arms wrapping around his torso, hugging him to the hard body of another. His mind registered the familiarity of the embrace and he placed a name and face to the body pressing against him. Duncan.

Something inside him rebelled and he tried to shake off the cloud blurring his thoughts. _Not Duncan. Not_ his _Duncan._ He was bent forward, a pressure nudging between his buttocks and he pressed against it, begging with his body for its invasion.

His lover's cock entered him slowly, the hard flesh sliding against his prostate, and he cried out in ecstasy. Duncan began thrusting inside him hard and fast, his arms pressing tightly into Methos' ribs, giving leverage to the thrust of his hips. Methos opened his eyes as Angelus pressed against his chest and transformed his features for feeding. He growled against Methos neck before his fangs nipped at the skin. Methos felt the smooth wetness of Angelus' tongue as he lapped the sweat from Methos' skin, and he pushed his head back against Duncan's chest to give him better access.

In the background the Christmas lights continued to blink with the angel on the top of the tree watching over them from her lofty perch. Methos closed his eyes, and let himself feel as Duncan's cock thrust inside him hard while Methos' own shaft throbbed in response. He felt Angelus' breath against his neck and tensed as his orgasm rushed towards him. In the background the music continued to play, serenading them as they reached their own crescendo to the beat.

> >   
>  _Hark! The herald angels sing,  
>  Glory to the new-born King!  
>  Peace on Earth and mercy mild,  
>  God and sinners reconciled!  
>  Joyful, all ye nations rise,  
>  Join the triumph of the skies;  
>  with th' angelic host proclaim  
>  Christ is born in Bethlehem!  
>  Hark! The herald angels sing  
>  Glory to the new-born king._   
> 

Methos felt his balls tighten, felt the tension in the arms holding him, and sucked in a deep breath, ready for the long needed release. Angelus sank his fangs into Methos' neck and began to drink. Methos felt his lifeblood ebb away as the vampire's fangs pressed deeper, and Angelus began to suck hard against his skin.

> >   
>  _Christ, by highest heaven adored;  
>  Christ, the everlasting Lord;  
>  Late in time behold him come;  
>  Offspring of the Virgin's womb.  
>  Veiled in flesh the Godhead see;  
>  Hail the incarnate Deity,  
>  Pleased as man with man to dwell;  
>  Jesus, our Emmanuel!_   
> 

Angelus' cock slid against his own as the vampire's groin pressed and ground against him. The intensity of Duncan's thrusts increased in time to Angelus' heated sucking of his blood, and Methos cried out from the overwhelming pleasure. Duncan's cry harmonized with his own as his orgasm crested, a powerful wave of pleasure from deep in his loins that pulsed through his cock and balls. He was coming, hard, as wave upon wave of pleasure shook his body. He felt Angelus tense against him, felt the splash of the vampire's come against his belly and he let go to the sound of the thundering refrain filling the room.

> >   
>  _Hark! the herald, angels sing  
>  Glory to the new-born King!  
>  Peace on earth and mercy mild,  
>  God and sinners reconciled!_   
> 

~~~~~~

Methos was drifting, his whole body floating in pleasure. He woke to the feel of a soft bed and strong hands massaging his arms and legs. He opened his eyes and peered around. The lights were on, and he had been cleaned and put to bed. Duncan was sitting at the foot of the bed, dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark red sweater, his shoulder length hair left loose around his face the way Methos liked it. He had one of Methos' legs lying across his lap while his strong hands massaged and caressed the residual stiffness from his calf.

Angelus was sitting at the head of the bed, dressed in the black jeans and top that he seemed to favor, one of Methos' arms pulled across his lap as he massaged away the tension from his over stressed muscles.

Methos studied both men intently, his hazel eyes narrowing with suspicion as they grinned innocently and continued to stroke and soothe his body.

"Are you all right?" Mac asked softly from the foot of the bed.

"Fine. What the bloody hell is this about, Mac?"

"You didn't take a dark quickening, did you?" Methos asked his partner.

"No." Mac shook his head and smiled.

Methos looked at the handsome vampire and studied his face. "You're not Angelus?"

"No." Angel smiled down at him.

"Merry Christmas, Methos," they said in unison.

"Merry Christmas?" Methos repeated uncertainly.

Duncan laughed, releasing his leg, and knee-walked over to ease down next to him in the bed. "Merry Christmas, baby."

"And I think that's my cue to leave," Angel said. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Methos' lips. "I'm going back to LA tomorrow. I'll keep in touch." He looked pointedly at Duncan. "Take care of him."

Duncan smiled, and cocked his head in affirmation, as Methos' former lover turned to leave the room. "Always."

Methos sat up and laid his head against Duncan's shoulder, sighing deeply as the silence turned thick between them. Duncan's arm reached around his waist to pull him closer to his chest.

"Are you all right?" Duncan asked him softly.

Methos smiled and eased into the caress. "How did you know? I mean, that I needed that...."

"I didn't. Well, not really. Not at first. But, you've been getting so restless ." Duncan paused and kissed Methos on the forehead. "When we played, you always wanted more--always tested your limits."

"Yes, I admit that. But, why this? Why now?" Methos asked him gently.

"Because I was afraid I couldn't give you what you needed." Duncan eased Methos off his chest so he could look at his face. "I love you, Methos. I want to make you happy--to give you everything you need. I just didn't understand...." Duncan paused and shook his head in resignation.

Methos grinned and rested his head against Duncan's shoulder once again. "Well, it seems like you had a pretty good idea tonight."

"Not really," Duncan admitted. "I asked Angel and he explained it to me. How the danger, the fear...how it adds to the sexual tension--increases the rush."

"Umm, the orgasm is incredible. Makes you fly," Methos agreed with a sly grin.

"He, uh...." Duncan squeezed Methos tighter.

"What?" Methos looked up at his lover's face.

Duncan blushed and looked away. "He told me about some of the games you two used to play. You know, when you were together, and he would pretend to be Angelus again."

Methos laughed. "Had a hell of a time. But after awhile even that became predictable too. I mean, I knew it wasn't him, so...." Methos paused as the proverbial light bulb came on over his head. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well." Methos laughed again. "I have to admit, Duncan, I didn't think you had it in you. But, I must say I'm impressed. It was quite extraordinary, actually."

"Good." Duncan smiled in obvious relief. "I have to admit that when Angel came up with the idea, I thought he was crazy. I'd never hurt you, Methos. You have to know that."

"Don't go ruining it now, MacLeod. No brooding allowed. It was bloody wonderful. Now leave it at that."

"All right." Duncan chuckled and pulled them down together to lie in the bed. "No brooding. Promise. Just don't expect me to do that again any time soon. That was hard work."

"Yeah, it is." Methos agreed and turned towards his lover in bed. "Duncan, I just want to know one thing."

"What?" Duncan asked cautiously.

"What the bloody hell did you brand into my ass?"

"Oh." Duncan stopped and cleared his throat. "Hmmlughf."

Methos narrowed his eyes and studied his lover. "What was that?" he asked in a very precise, clipped voice.

Duncan sighed deeply before meeting his eyes. "DM."

"DM? You branded your initials into my ass?" Methos yelled at the man who was now ass backing away from him on the bed. Methos sat up on his knees and began crawling towards his partner who was now laughing loudly as Methos advanced. Methos reached for him, catching him just before he rolled off onto the floor. "I'll show you bloody branding," he groused before swallowing his lover's laughter in a hungry kiss.

 

 

~finis~  



End file.
